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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25591351">But I've Been Down Here Before</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/batgurl88/pseuds/batgurl88'>batgurl88</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Use, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Sibling Ben Hargreeves, Good Sibling Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Swears A Lot, Past psychological abuse, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Vomiting, implied/referenced past prostitution</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:07:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25591351</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/batgurl88/pseuds/batgurl88</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He trailed off, feeling numb. Abilities? Little Vanya? The only one among them who'd managed to escape the living hell that was the Umbrella Academy? How could she have abilities? She'd written a whole book about how normal she was!</p><p>or</p><p>Klaus reads the journal instead of throwing it away, and that makes all the difference.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ben Hargreeves &amp; Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves &amp; Vanya Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Canon Divergent AUs, Dumb Bullshit to satiate my Escapism, Fave The Umbrella Academy, Finished faves, Good finished fics recommended by Hallow, One-Shot Goldmine, Semi-Functional Adults, The Umbrella Academy, finished shit</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>But I've Been Down Here Before</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was supposed to be a short, 2000 word palate cleanser to get me back on track with writing my Klaus and Five fic, but it quickly snowballed into this monstrosity. I wanted to get it posted before S2 airs and distracts me with even more ideas.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There had to be a term for eccentric pricks who dedicated their lives to obsessively studying and experimenting on their adopted children, but still couldn't be bothered to keep a single picture of said children in their office.</p><p><em>Narcissistic son of a bitch</em> didn't seem strong enough. <em>Self-centered asswipe</em> was a little on the simplistic side, but it had a nice ring to it.</p><p>Klaus chewed his lip, sliding the fancy-looking letter opener in a little deeper as he considered the problem.</p><p>It wasn't like there was a shortage of pictures of dear old Dad decorating the room. Far from it. The office was practically bursting with vanity shots of his crusty old face surrounded by expensive silver picture frames, not to mention the photos of him standing stiffly next to the rulers of various countries, or the carefully preserved newspaper clippings happily singing his praises. It was inescapable, no surface left untouched by his cursed scowl, and each picture carefully arranged facing the desk so they could be seen in every direction.</p><p>And don't even get him started on the ridiculously oversized and pretentious portrait hanging behind the desk. Daddy had spared no expense on that monstrosity, his cold, beady eyes glaring down at anyone who dared to open the door to his private sanctuary. It was taking all of Klaus' self-restraint not to pull a <em>The Picture of Dorian Gray</em> on the ugly thing and stab the hell out of it with the letter opener.</p><p>"You know how pathetic this is, right?"</p><p>Ben's voice was equal parts dry and judgemental, which matched quite nicely with the look he was shooting Klaus - a skill he'd spent his entire afterlife perfecting. He sighed, watching Klaus fiddle with the drawer latch that for some reason refused to be jimmied open.</p><p>Klaus ignored him, devoting all of his concentration to his task. He'd never understand their dad. The mansion was already decked out with all the best security money could buy - the guy really had to go all-out on a fancy desk lock no one but his traumatised kids had any chance of even seeing let alone being stupid enough to steal from?</p><p>Present company excluded, of course.</p><p>"Aren't you supposed to be keeping a lookout?" Klaus asked irritably, shifting onto his knees and trying to pry the lock open with brute force. This would be a lot easier if he knew where Reggie kept his keys. Knowing him, they were probably hidden in a secret safe six feet underground on the other side of the world. Paranoid bastard.</p><p>"I'm not helping you loot our dad's office for drug money," Ben said, rolling his eyes. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, leaning down to peer at a creepy stuffed owl that was perched on a side table.</p><p>Dad had always had the worst taste in interior decorating.</p><p>"It's not stealing if it's <em>family</em>," Klaus gasped dramatically, clutching his chest and throwing Ben a wounded look that went completely ignored. He shrugged, returning to his task. "As far as I'm concerned, this is just a down payment on the years of therapy that dickhead owes for forcing us to grow up in this hellhole. I think it's safe to assume he wrote me out of the will, and you <em>know</em> Luther and Pogo are going to lock this whole place down the first chance they get. I wouldn't be surprised if Dad had arranged for all of his shit to go to some museum in his honour after his death: <em>Sadistic Fuckweasels of the Early 21st Century</em>."</p><p>Ben snorted softly and Klaus counted it as a win. He'd been more quiet than usual ever since they'd heard the news about dear Papa - he hadn't even lectured Klaus about overdosing a mere two hours after his latest release from rehab (a new record, beating his previous best time by almost half a day).</p><p>Klaus was pretty sure it wasn't grief making him mopey, or at least, it wasn't the sort of grief kids were supposed to have when their one of their parents kicked the bucket. Neither of them would miss the old man in the slightest, he was sure of that, but big changes were always hard for Ben - just another reminder of how the world moved on without him while he stayed perpetually young and ghostie. He'd had a minor breakdown when Luther first went to the moon, even though neither of them had even seen the big guy in years by that point.</p><p>Then there was the fact that Dad had always seemed practically invincible. Klaus was positive he'd rolled out of the womb with his gray goatee and that stupid monocle, his wrinkly face never changing one bit over the years. After a whole childhood of secretly believing-slash-fearing that their dad was immortal, it was still a little hard to accept that he'd died of boring old heart failure (especially since Klaus was firmly convinced he lacked the requisite heart).</p><p>Klaus probably wouldn't have even bothered coming back to attend this charming family reunion if not for his deep-seated desire to see for himself that Dad really was gone and not, like, faking his death as part of an elaborate training exercise or something.</p><p>Still, sad Ben wasn't half as much fun as regular Ben, and being back in the mansion didn't seem to be helping much. He supposed there was a chance that he'd perk up once the rest of their siblings arrived, but past experience suggested otherwise. As much as Ben liked seeing the others, the excitement of those meetings quickly wore off once he remembered that he couldn't talk to them, and Klaus had long since given up on trying to convince them he was there. Ben would grow increasingly bitter and resigned the longer the others ignored him, and Klaus would get a headache from waffling back and forth between following the thread of conversation and trying not to react to his brother's snarky commentary.</p><p>All in all, not an experience either of them was looking forward to.</p><p>Which brought him back to his current efforts, because if Klaus had to attend this hot mess of a funeral, he was definitely getting paid for it. Ben may not have approved of how Klaus chose to spend his cash, but at least he wasn't about to try and argue for preserving the sanctity of their dearly departed father's office. Hell, Klaus could probably burn the whole mansion to the ground, and Ben's main concern would be the collateral damage to the neighbouring buildings.</p><p>He slammed the heel of his hand against the letter opener and gave a small cry of victory as the drawer <em>finally</em> popped open. Klaus shifted up onto his knees, eagerly sifting through the goodies.</p><p>"Come on. Where's the cash, old man? <em>Where is it?</em>" he murmured to himself, shoving aside folders and pads of paper in search of treasure. "Aha!"</p><p>He sat back on his heels, holding the large black and gold box <em>Lion King</em>-style over his head as he grinned up at his brother.</p><p>"Whaddaya think, Benny Boy? Does Daddy seem like the type to keep his cash in a fancy rich guy box?" he crowed, scrambling into their dad's chair and reverently placing his prize on the desk. "Christ, I hope it's not porn or something - I shudder to think what kind of sick shit he was into."</p><p>"Ugh," Ben groaned, making a face. "That was an image I really didn't need."</p><p>Klaus paid him no attention, smiling down at his find.</p><p>The box was also locked, which really felt like overkill at this point. Thankfully, this one wasn't nearly as impressive as the one on the drawer. He grabbed the letter opener off the floor where he'd dropped it and set to work. Ben shook his head, strolling across the room to read one of the newspaper clippings on the wall.</p><p>"Come on, papa needs a new baggie of uppers," Klaus muttered, cheering when the lock quickly gave way. Ha! He dumped the contents on the desk, his excitement dimming at the boring old books and papers that fell out.</p><p>"Boo," he said, his shoulders slumping. What a waste of a perfectly good hiding spot.</p><p>Well, at least the box itself would probably fetch him a decent price. Maybe even enough to get him through another day or two depending on how much of a clusterfuck the funeral was. He tucked the box into the back wasitband of his pants where his coat would cover it - he knew better than to get caught walking around the mansion with anything valuable, especially with Luther on the prowl - and scoffed as he caught sight of the red journal amid the papers.</p><p>He picked it up, rolling his eyes at the <em>RH</em> engraved in obnoxious gold letters on the cover. Their dad had spent their whole childhood writing in journals like that one, sometimes spending entire days locked away in his office, ignoring their existence in favour of his notes. Klaus wondered if the man ever got sick of listening to himself.</p><p>He went to pose the question to Ben, but his brother's eyes were locked on the notebook, his expression dark and moody. Klaus knew that look. Ben didn't have nightmares, being a ghost and all, but he got flashbacks sometimes, just like Klaus did. That particular haunted look meant he was thinking about their debriefing sessions - the ones after missions - when Dad had made them stand in front of his desk for hours while he drilled them on what they'd done wrong, never once looking up from his journal as he wrote.</p><p>For Ben, debriefings had meant reliving the deaths he was responsible for over and over again, describing every move the Horror had made in precise and graphic detail, his voice often giving out before Dad finally let him leave to wash the blood off of himself.</p><p>Klaus rolled his lips and thought about how nice it would be to finally get to dance on their dad's grave. Maybe he'd borrow some of Mom's heels for the occasion.</p><p>"Here's a definite contender for the museum," he commented breezily, hoping to wipe the grim look off Ben's face. "What do you want to bet he's got pages in here dedicated to our bathroom schedules and how many times Diego polished his knives every day?"</p><p>Ben gave a half-hearted smile, but it was strained. Klaus could do better.</p><p>He flicked through the pages dismissively, his eyes skimming over their father's surprisingly messy writing. The words <em>'No. 04 Conjuring Incident'</em> caught his attention, and he quickly flipped past. He definitely wasn't high enough to be reading whatever traumatising bullshit Daddy had written about him. He paused instead on a page titled <em>'Sleep Patterns'</em>, his interest piqued.</p><p>"<em>'The subject appears to enter Delta Sleep more rapidly than her siblings,'</em>" he read in a high, creaky voice, adopting the exaggerated scowl that had permanently resided on Reggie's face. "<em>'Further observation is required to document anomalous effects related to treatment.'</em> God, what a pretentious windbag! What kind of weirdo stays up all night watching security footage of his children sleeping? I bet other kids' dads have normal hobbies like golf or water polo or whatever."</p><p>Ben's chuckle was genuine this time, his head shaking in amusement. Klaus chalked up another win for himself, kicking his feet up onto the desk and leaning back in the chair. Not bad for a day's work. He turned to another page, getting a feel for the impression.</p><p>"<em>'The subject appears to be adjusting well to her new reality,'</em>" he continued with an over-the-top glare, glancing up to check that Ben was still watching, "<em>'and shows no recollection of the rumour performed on her by Number Three. She has, however, developed an irritating habit of requesting to be included in training - efforts to further suppress Number Seven's confidence should be intensified–'</em> Wait, what the fuck?"</p><p>He sat up, his legs thumping to the ground as he re-read the words in confusion. He'd never realised that Dad was keeping notes on Vanya, too. He'd never shown any real interest in studying her when they were growing up. Just the opposite, in fact. And what the hell did <em>'efforts to suppress her confidence'</em> mean?</p><p>Ben looked equally confused.</p><p>Dread curdled in Klaus' stomach as he read on, dropping the impression. "<em>'Number Seven has been taking her medication as ordered, and has shown a noticeable stabilization in her emotions. Number Five expressed some concern about the change in Number Seven's affect, however he was easily distracted with the promise of additional training sessions. The other subjects do not appear to have noticed any change, and have expressed no recollection of Number Seven having ever displayed supernatural abilities...'</em>"</p><p>He trailed off, feeling numb. Abilities? Little Vanya? The only one among them who'd managed to escape the living hell that was the Umbrella Academy? How could she have abilities? She'd written a whole <em>book</em> about how normal she was!</p><p>He flicked back a few pages, his forehead creasing as he read their dad's detailed assessments of Vanya's powers (some sort of sound-blast thingy that his mind was too frazzled to really grasp) with growing horror. Line after line was filled with notes about the need to keep her powers a secret - even from herself. About the drugs he gave her to alter her moods and keep her sedated. About the calculated attacks on her self-esteem and her contributions to the household, and his efforts to control her by withholding his attention and approval.</p><p>About his decision to have Allison rumour her into forgetting that things had ever been different. All of it, a twisted plot to keep any of them from suspecting the truth.</p><p>Ben was standing over his shoulder now, having gotten tired of waiting for him to continue. He peered down at the book in disbelief.</p><p>"<em>'Number Seven continues to believe that she is ordinary,'</em>" he read, "<em>'and behavioural and verbal reinforcement has proven extremely effective thus far in suppressing her self-confidence and tendency toward rebellion. Although Number Three's rumour has proven successful, improvements have been made to the soundproof containment bunker on the lowest level of the academy should Number Seven require incarceration again in the future–'</em>"</p><p>Klaus' vision went white, his breath catching in his lungs as <em>he felt the cold stone beneath his palms, his fingers scraped raw and bloody from clawing at the heavy door. The stench of damp leaves and stale air flooded his nostrils, and he was trapped he couldn't breathe he'd suffocate in here. The ghosts were screaming too loudly for him to think, his head pounding, they never stopped, he couldn't hear anything not even his own shouts as he tried to drown them out his voice scratchy and weak after hours locked inside. Hours spent begging for Dad to let him out he'd be good now he'd be good but the ghosts would tear him apart until there was nothing left he was never going to get out–</em></p><p>"–<em>aus</em>. Klaus! It's okay, just breathe. You're not there anymore. <em>Breathe</em>."</p><p>He gasped a lungful of air, his chest aching as he blinked back tears. Bit by bit, the office came back into focus, Ben's soothing voice guiding him as he breathed in and out until his heart stopped feeling like it would burst out of him like a scene from <em>Alien</em>. <em>God</em>, he hadn't had an attack like that in a while. He scrambled to pull the little baggie from his pocket, his fingers shaking as he fished out a couple of pills and swallowed them dry, ignoring the mildly disapproving look Ben shot him.</p><p>"Better?" Ben asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.</p><p>Klaus nodded, still not trusting himself to speak. He glanced down at the journal, sprawled open on the floor where he'd dropped it, and suppressed the urge to vomit.</p><p>"What the <em>fuck?</em>" he rasped, his mind still reeling to catch up.</p><p>Ben looked every bit as thrown as he was, shaking his head.</p><p>"I mean, I knew Dad was messed up, but <em>Vanya?</em>" Klaus implored. "Sweet, little Vanya? The sister who wouldn't let us pick on <em>ants? That's</em> the big danger to the world? And, what, he just wrote her off like she was nothing and spent the rest of his life shitting on her so she wouldn't stand up to him? Fuck!"</p><p>He could sort of remember Vanya going away for a while when they were little. It must have been shortly after they got Mom, back when having a mom was still a novelty for all of them, because he had a vague memory of feeling jealous of the attention he'd assumed Vanya was getting. He'd seen mothers on TV caring for their sick kids, tucking them into bed and feeding them chicken soup and kissing their foreheads, and he'd tried repeatedly to convince Pogo that he had a fever and needed to be in quarantine too.</p><p>He'd completely forgotten about it until now. That whole time he'd been wishing he could get a break from everything like Vanya, like she was on <em>vacation</em> or something, Dad had had her <em>locked up in a cage downstairs fuckfuckfuck–</em></p><p>His stomach turned and he forced the thought down.</p><p>Klaus raked his fingers through his hair, wishing his pills would hurry up and kick in.</p><p>It wasn't even the lies. It was the methodical way Reginald had gone about it all. Always telling Vanya she wasn't special. Going out of his way to separate her from the others. Putting her down in front of them so they'd never question it. Even heaping extra attention on Allison so that she would feel like less in comparison.</p><p>What kind of sick fuck treats a child like that?</p><p>And the drugs. Jesus, was she still taking them? She had to be, right? All these years, never realizing that they were suppressing a fundamental part of her, that she was actively doing Daddy's bidding. <em>'Mood altering medication,'</em> the journal had called it, a chill going up Klaus' spine. He couldn't even remember a time when Vanya hadn't been taking those pills. What was she even like before them?</p><p>"You know we have to tell her, right?" said Ben, his expression grim.</p><p>Klaus knew. But the thought of broaching the subject made his skin crawl. He was so not the right sibling to be trusted with such a big conversation.</p><p>Ben would have known what to say, how to tell Vanya that her life was way more fucked up than she'd ever realised without accidentally pissing her off or getting the door slammed in his face. Ben had always been better at that sort of thing than him. He was a good brother.</p><p>If Klaus had needed any more proof that the universe sucked, it was that Ben was the one stuck as a ghost while Klaus just kept beating the odds on overdose after overdose.</p><p>Not for the first time, he wished that Five was still around. Sure, the little pipsqueak had been a train wreck when it came to things like empathy and human emotions, but at least Vanya had <em>liked</em> him.</p><p>He wasn't sure how long he sat there before he heard the creak of a floorboard, his head shooting up. With a panicked glance at Ben, he kicked the journal under the desk, folding his arms across his stomach and schooling his face into something more innocent just as Allison peered in the doorway.</p><p>"Klaus?" She frowned, tilting her head in suspicion. "What are you doing in here?"</p><p>She looked every bit as glamorous as she had in the last interview of hers he'd seen in rehab, her hair a rich golden brown and hanging long past her shoulders, complementing her bright blue top beautifully. He'd kept up on her film career over the years, and liberated pictures of her from whatever magazines and newspapers he happened to get his hands on. But for the first time he could remember, he felt vaguely sick just looking at her.</p><p>
  <em>'...Number Three's rumour has proven successful...'</em>
</p><p>It was so easy to picture it. Allison had always been quick to use her rumours growing up, being one of the lucky siblings to get a non-sucky power. She'd rumoured each of them countless times over the years, for everything from making them do the dishes when it was her turn to securing herself the largest slice of cake on their birthday. He even suspected she might have rumoured Dad once or twice to get out of training.</p><p>But she'd still been just as afraid of Dad as the rest of them. It was impossible not to be, growing up as they had, terrified of being on the receiving end of his anger and disappointment. She'd rumoured cops and witnesses and criminals at Dad's command, and he knew there were others. She'd gone quiet, sometimes, late at night when they were painting their nails and gossiping in her room, refusing to tell him anything about the special mission Dad had taken her on that just so happened to coincide with a world leader's visit or a new contract going Dad's way.</p><p>If Allison had played fast and loose with the rumours as a kid, it was largely because Dad had taught her to. But this? Rumouring their sister to forget her own powers? He couldn't believe she'd keep such a big secret from them all these years, even if Dad had ordered it.</p><p>Then again, she was only four years old at the time. Klaus' memories of that age were limited at best. Maybe she didn't remember it? Or maybe Dad told her that the rumour would do something else, like fix Vanya's eyesight or something? <em>Ordinary</em> could mean a lot of different things, after all.</p><p>He was going in circles, his stomach twisting into knots. Thankfully, Allison didn't seem to notice, folding her arms across her chest as she stepped the rest of the way into the room.</p><p>"<em>Klaus?</em>" she repeated, a slight warning to her tone that said he'd better not be high right now.</p><p>Klaus shoved his anxiety-spiral aside, spreading his arms grandly and plastering a smile on his face. After a lifetime of practice, he could do this act blindfolded.</p><p>"Oh! Allison! I didn't know you were here already." He gave his best grin, willing himself not to look back at Ben. "I was just reliving the good old days, thinking about all the fond memories we had in this room. Thought I'd say a private goodbye to the old man, you know?"</p><p>"Uh huh..." she replied dryly, her stance starting to relax.</p><p>He laid it on thicker, sniffling and brushing away a fake tear. "It's just so hard to believe he's really gone. I keep expecting him to pop up and tell us what horrible disappointments we all are."</p><p>He could feel Ben's flat stare on the back of his neck. "Don't overdo it."</p><p>Klaus ignored him, dramatically fanning his fake tears away with both hands. Honestly, it wasn't his best work, not by a long shot. He could tell that she wasn't buying any of it, either. But if there was one thing their siblings could always be counted on for, it was turning a blind eye to his bullshit.</p><p>Sure enough, Allison shook her head dismissively, a small smile on her lips.</p><p>"Right. Well, Luther wants to talk to everyone downstairs. He has some stuff to discuss before the funeral," she said, gesturing behind her.</p><p>"Great, sounds like a blast!" Klaus agreed a little too enthusiastically, sitting upright. "I'll be there in two shakes of a lamb's tail - just want to say one more quick thing to Daddy Dearest before I go, won't be a minute."</p><p>Allison raised a well-manicured eyebrow, no doubt expecting him to stuff his pockets with every gold-plated item he could carry as soon as she left the room. Which, fair enough. Still, she nodded and left the way she came, Ben following after her. He paused in the doorway, craning his neck in the direction of the stairs.</p><p>"She's gone."</p><p>Klaus let out the breath he'd been holding, slowly pushing away from the desk to stare down at the journal at his feet.</p><p>Less than an hour in and this funeral was already exceeding his worst expectations.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>* * *</p>
</div><p>By the time he got downstairs, the journal and all of the expensive-looking trinkets he'd come across carefully stashed away in his old bedroom, the others were already waiting for him. Luther's impatient glare as he entered the parlor would've been comical any other time, but he was too preoccupied with imitating his usual swagger to fully appreciate it. He flopped down onto the far end of the couch, leaving the middle free for Ben, who'd been sticking close to his side ever since they'd found the notebook.</p><p>Allison rolled her eyes indulgently at his behaviour, sipping on a glass of whiskey that made Klaus' mouth water. The fully stocked bar was just a few steps away, but Ben had made him swear that he wouldn't get too wasted around the others. Not if he wanted to stop himself from accidentally blabbing about what he'd learned.</p><p>Diego crossed his arms, ignoring Klaus' antics in favour of staring down Luther, who'd apparently taken up professional body building on the moon if his massive shoulders were any indication.</p><p>It'd been years since the last time they were all in the same room together, but Klaus found his attention immediately drawn to Vanya, who was doing her best to melt into the couch cushions.</p><p>He hadn't hung out with her much when they were growing up, on account of his having spent a considerable portion of their childhood drunk, high, or scared out of his mind. While Allison could always be counted on for fashion advice or some quality girl talk, Vanya had generally preferred Five's company - or, occasionally, Ben's. It was a little disconcerting to realise how little he actually knew about her.</p><p>Luther was still droning on about funeral plans, but Klaus tuned him out, watching as Vanya bit her lip to keep from contributing to the discussion, her shoulders hunched. She'd always been the smallest sibling, even before the rest of them got their growth spurts, but she gave the impression of being dwarfed by her oversized denim shirt and ill-fitting pants. Her expressions were as muted as her colour palette, and Klaus struggled to remember if he had ever seen a genuine smile or heard a real laugh from her.</p><p>Did she even realise how strange that was? Did she ever suspect that there was something wrong?</p><p>Klaus chewed on his thumbnail, his knees pulled into his chest and his bare feet on the couch cushion as he thought.</p><p><em>'You think you're just ordinary.'</em> That was the rumour that Dad had ordered Allison to give. Klaus had been on the receiving end of enough rumours to know that wording was extremely important. The slightest change could have drastically different consequences. And Reginald Hargreeves was nothing if not precise.</p><p>It hadn't been enough for her to just say, <em>You don't know you have powers.</em> No, dear old Dad had wanted something more than that. He'd wanted Vanya to believe she was nothing special, and it showed in her every action. Hell, her book had practically screamed it from the rooftops. Vanya's entire life had been decided by a rumour and she didn't even know it.</p><p>Klaus froze. What if it wasn't the only one? What if there were other rumours, other times Dad had changed their memories to fit his plans? For all he knew, they were all like Mom, their memories subject to reprogramming if they proved disruptive.</p><p>He fought back a wave of nausea.</p><p>And then there was the bunker that was apparently hiding in the basement somewhere, just waiting for the day that one of them stepped out of line enough for Dad to lock them away, maybe for good. Klaus' breath hitched at the thought, his hand curling around the baggie of pills in his pocket like a lifeline.</p><p>Did Vanya have the same trouble breathing in small places that he did? Did she feel the same terror around locked doors and windowless rooms, and not even know why?</p><p>"Klaus? Hey, Klaus!"</p><p>He nearly jumped out of his skin as Luther snapped his big meaty fingers in front of his face, blinking dumbly to find all of his siblings staring at him with varying degrees of disappointment and exasperation.</p><p>"Wha–" He cleared his throat, trying to look more alert. "What's up, big guy?"</p><p>Luther sighed irritably. "I said, I need you to talk to Dad," he replied tersely, his jaw ticking.</p><p>He reeled back. The thought of seeing their dad's face right now, of hearing his sharp voice and staring into those cold, unforgiving eyes knowing what he'd done was enough to turn his blood to ice. He heard himself choke out a response, his heart pounding in his ears.</p><p>"No. N-no, I can't. I can't do that."</p><p>"Keep it together, Klaus," Ben urged softly from the seat next to him. "You can get through this."</p><p>Luther scowled down at him. "What do you mean? That's your power."</p><p>"He's high," Allison interrupted, her eyes darting pointedly to the rehab bracelet around his wrist. She shook her head, taking another drink as Vanya stole a small, uncertain glance in his direction.</p><p>"What would it prove, anyway?" Diego demanded, getting up in Luther's space. "Dad was paranoid over nothing, it'd be a waste of time."</p><p>"It would <em>prove</em> that he knew someone was out to get him," Luther retorted, the pair of them continuing on with an argument Klaus had missed in its entirety. He stopped listening again shortly after, for once grateful not to be the centre of attention.</p><p>"Just stay calm," said Ben, watching him carefully. "Try not to think about it."</p><p>Right. Just ignore the giant traumatising elephant in the room. No problem.</p><p>Klaus hugged his knees, turning his attention back to the others. He tried to follow along with whatever it was they were fighting about, but his gaze kept shifting back to Vanya beside them, sitting blissfully unaware.</p>
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</div><p>The rest of the funeral went about as well as he'd expected, what with Luther accusing one of them of murdering Dad, and Five reappearing in a blaze of middle-aged bitchiness, and Ben's statue getting decapitated while Luther and Diego tried to kill each other. All in all, your typical family get-together.</p><p>Through it all, Klaus had tried to find a moment alone with Vanya, because he may not have been the most emotionally sensitive person in the world but even he knew this wasn't the sort of thing you could just shout out from across the room. And, okay, maybe he hadn't tried as hard as he could have to talk to her, but he'd used up the last of his pills before the eulogy had even begun and his skin had started crawling every time he caught sight of one of Dad's pictures glaring at him from its frame, and honestly it was all too much to deal with.</p><p>In the end, Vanya left before he could talk to her, and Klaus decided he'd kept his promise long enough. He made his way to his old bedroom and loaded his pockets with every knick-knack and ornament he'd gotten his hands on during the day, before sneaking out his window onto the fire escape.</p><p>Ben didn't even try to stop him.</p>
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</div><p>Klaus jolted awake, gasping for air as visions of the mausoleum faded from before his eyes. His fingers clawed at the couch cushion, memories of banging and scraping at the heavy stone door still fresh, only now they were twisted together with the feeling of being deep underground, his screams for help going unheard through the soundproof walls of the basement as he stayed trapped in the dark for years and years and years.</p><p>Nothing like a little mind-numbing terror to get the heart pumping in the morning.</p><p>He rolled off the couch, his brain still fuzzy from the nightmare and his ears ringing with the cries of the dead, both past and present. He was in his underwear, and he vaguely recalled having been too tired the night before to bother with the stairs to his room. The steady buzz he'd cultivated last evening had long-since faded, to his disappointment, and he crawled across the floor of the parlor to his discarded clothes in search of something to revive it.</p><p>"Good morning," Ben drawled from an adjacent chair, leaning forward to brace his forearms on his knees. He had his Serious Face on, which was never a good sign, and usually signalled a long and guilt-trippy lecture about Klaus' wasted potential.</p><p>Well, there was no way he was going to sit through that little chat sober.</p><p>He rifled through the many, many pockets of his coat - which had seemed like a good investment at the time, ideal for hiding stuff in, but right now was just irritating - huffing as he came up empty. True, he hadn't shown much in the way of restraint the night before, but he couldn't have used it <em>all</em> up, right?</p><p><em>Yes!</em> His fingers brushed against the familiar outline of a joint in an inside pocket, a wave of relief washing over him as he fished it out. Things were already looking up.</p><p>"You know we have to find Vanya today," Ben continued, his expression grim, and Klaus' mood plummeted as the memories of yesterday came flooding back. Shit.</p><p>He sighed, nodding. "Yeah, I know."</p><p>"And it would probably help your chances of getting her to listen to you if you weren't stoned when you talk to her," Ben reasoned, gesturing pointedly at the joint in his hand.</p><p>Klaus' stomach sank. Despite them having spent very little time together, Vanya's book had still had plenty to say about his drug use, none of it encouraging. And he'd gotten into enough fights with his other siblings to know that they were disinclined to take him seriously on a good day, let alone when he was high.</p><p>Exhibit A: Ben's funeral and the fiasco that had followed, all of which had been detailed vividly for Vanya's readers.</p><p>Damn it.</p><p>He groaned loudly, shoving the joint back in the pocket. "Fine. Fine. Fine!" he said, throwing his arms up dramatically and clambering to his feet. He glared at Ben, who was looking far too pleased with himself.</p><p>"You win for now, but the <em>minute</em> we finish this little heart-to-heart I'm going to get so high I forget my own name for at least a week and I don't want to hear one <em>single</em> word from your judgy undead ass."</p><p>"<em>Ahem.</em>"</p><p>Klaus whirled around, grabbing his chest. "<em>Christ!</em> Warn a guy, would you?"</p><p>Pogo stared fixedly at him from the doorway of the sitting room, his hands folded over the head of his cane. "My apologies, Master Klaus," he said, not sounding the least bit sorry. "Were you speaking to someone?"</p><p>"What?" Klaus laughed breathily, making a face. "No, no, no one." He waved his hand dismissively, ignoring the exasperated look Ben was shooting him. Easy to be high-minded when you weren't the one people accused of making up stories. "Just thinking out loud, you know, it helps with the whole... thinking... thing."</p><p>"Nice," Ben drawled, rolling his eyes.</p><p>Pogo pursed his lips. "I have a query for you," he said, in the same tone of voice he'd once used to question Klaus about the decanter of three-hundred-dollar brandy that had mysteriously vanished from the liquor cabinet. "Items from your father's office have gone missing. I thought, perhaps, you might have some idea as to their whereabouts."</p><p>Klaus blinked with feigned innocence, clasping his hands behind his back. "Oh?"</p><p>"In particular," Pogo continued, tilting his head in suspicion, "An ornate box with pearl inlay."</p><p>Klaus stiffened, his insides going cold. <em>E tu, Pogo?</em> He glanced back quickly as Ben stood, a pained expression on his face.</p><p>"You don't say," he choked out, keeping his expression as blank as possible.</p><p>In retrospect, he guessed it shouldn't have been all that surprising. Pogo had always gone along with Dad's plans, for as long as Klaus could remember. He was probably the closest thing the asshole had had to a friend, though Klaus was pretty sure their dad had viewed him as an interesting experiment first and foremost, so <em>of course</em> he'd been let in on the whole <em>I'm going to emotionally and psychologically manipulate my daughter</em> plot. Next to Luther, who had basically been brainwashed to believe that the sun shot out of Daddy's ass, and Mom, who was literally programmed not to question a single thing Reginald Hargreeves said or did, Pogo had always been their father's staunchest defender, standing quietly and supportively by his side all these years.</p><p>But it still <em>sucked</em>. Yeah, Pogo had been a hardass when they were growing up, but he'd always been there to listen to them, too. He could always be found lurking nearby after hard training sessions or traumatising missions, ready to assure them that their dad really did care about them deep, deep down. Even though Klaus had known for a long time that it was total bullshit, some part of him had still appreciated hearing it as a kid.</p><p>Pogo had never once stood up to their dad in front of them, never once openly defied him, but it'd still always felt like he was privately on their side. Giving them a sympathetic smile or a comforting word whenever one of Dad's lessons landed too harshly. Like they were all part of a team, each one of them just trying to survive living under Reginald Hargreeves' thumb.</p><p>Had all of that been a lie? Had he ever really cared about them at all? How could he have, if he was still following Reggie's orders even after the dickhead in question had kicked the bucket?</p><p>A blurry memory surfaced of Pogo standing over Vanya, handing her a new bottle of pills with a warm smile. Klaus' stomach turned.</p><p>"Any idea where it might have gone?" Pogo pressed, his dark eyes narrowing. Klaus swallowed past a lump in his throat, shaking his head.</p><p>"Nope. No, no idea," he replied. "Sorry," he tacked on belatedly, feeling anything but.</p><p>Pogo sighed. "The contents of that box are... priceless."</p><p><em>Yeah, I'll bet they are</em>, Klaus thought, his fists clenching behind his back. Dad had probably left extremely specific instructions tasking Pogo with its protection, the secret following old Reggie to his grave. And none of them would have ever suspected a thing.</p><p>"Were they to find their way back to the office," Pogo continued, oblivious to the anger prickling beneath Klaus' skin, "Whoever took it would be absolved of any blame or consequence."</p><p>"Well, lucky them," he replied flippantly, grimacing up a tight smile. "Haven't seen it."</p><p>"Hmmm." Pogo stared at him, tilting his head in the other direction, but Klaus had been playing this game for as long as he'd been able to talk. He gave nothing back, waiting silently until the old primate finally gave up.</p><p>"Very well," he said, turning to leave. "You will let me know if you happen to see anything?"</p><p>"Absolutely," Klaus assured him, his knuckles turning white. "You'll be the first to know."</p><p>He watched as Pogo slowly ambled out of the room, waiting until he heard the telltale click of the library door down the hall before letting his shoulders slump.</p><p>This funeral was just the gift that kept on giving.</p><p>He turned to Ben, finding the same betrayal he felt staring back at him. Klaus waved the emotion aside, rubbing a hand across his face. Whatever. It wasn't like anything had really changed, in the grand scheme of things.</p><p>"Klaus..."</p><p>He shook his head, grabbing his clothes off the floor.</p><p>"Let's get this over with," he stated, patting his pockets for the joint and relaxing a bit at the assurance it was still there.</p><p>After this, he was definitely skipping all reunions for at least the next decade. There were only so many family skeletons a guy could take.</p>
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</div><p>Klaus was panting by the time he reached the top of the stairs, his tank top plastered with sweat. He was very much regretting the coat, even if it was currently holding his emergency stash and the cash left over from last night's pawnshop spree.</p><p>"Holy shit," he gasped, bracing his hands on his knees. "You can't seriously tell me Vanya does this every day. What kind of apartment doesn't have an elevator?"</p><p>"It's only the second floor, Klaus," said Ben, rolling his eyes. The bastard didn't even have the decency to look tired. Stupid ghost lungs. "Maybe you should lay off the cigarettes."</p><p>Klaus ran a hand across his face, feeling drained and sore. "Give me a break," he whined, leaning back against the wall of the hallway. "I haven't had a fix in, like, sixteen hours."</p><p>"You're the one who wasted most of the morning pestering Mom for waffles," Ben reminded him unhelpfully. Klaus groaned.</p><p>"Fine, fine, <em>excuse me</em> for wanting a little home-cooked goodness before embarking on this shitfest of a quest," he replied, waving at Vanya's door down the hall. Allison had better have been right about the address. He was so not in the mood to be knocking on random people's doors right now. Not unless those people happened to be drug dealers, of course, but Vanya didn't seem like the type to keep that sort of company.</p><p>God, his legs ached like he'd just run a marathon.</p><p>"Stop stalling," said Ben, crossing his arms.</p><p>Klaus moaned, curling his hands into fists. Right. Time to be a good brother and hopefully not screw things up even more than they already were.</p><p>He wet his lips, making his way down the hall and avoiding eye contact with the dim outline of an old woman wearing a truly hideous purple and orange knitted cardigan. So far, she hadn't seemed to have picked up on the fact that he could see her, but they always figured it out sooner or later. It was only a matter of time before she clued in and told all of her little ghost pals about him.</p><p>Ughhhh this sucked. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been this sober outside of rehab, and even then, he'd usually found <em>something</em> to take the edge off. Why couldn't someone else have found the stupid notebook?</p><p>He rapped on the door, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat and fighting the urge to bolt. He could do this. He could definitely do this.</p><p>The door opened surprisingly quickly, Vanya peering out with an eagerly expectant look on her face.</p><p>"Fi– Oh," she stuttered, her expression dimming at the sight of him. Right. So, this was already off to a great start.</p><p>Still, Klaus was nothing if not an expert at pretending not to know when he wasn't wanted. He grinned widely, waving his HELLO hand with a flourish.</p><p>"Lovely to see you, too, sister dearest! You know, you really shouldn't open your door without checking the peephole. That's how rapists get in."</p><p>Vanya blinked, looking taken aback. "Oh. Yeah, I just wasn't expecting... I thought you might be Five."</p><p>"Oh, right!" Klaus nodded thoughtfully. "I'd wondered what happened to the little gremlin. I guess he must be out partying - not every day you travel back through time and find yourself going through puberty again, is it?"</p><p>A worried frown settled on Ben's face, like he'd forgotten about Five's reappearance and was considering having Klaus go check up on him next. Which was definitely not happening. Don't get him wrong, he was glad the snarky old geezer was back, but one tiny, presumably-traumatised sibling was more than enough responsibility, thank you very much.</p><p>Vanya bit her lip, watching him guardedly from the doorway. She was wearing a blue and green plaid shirt that was at least two sizes too big for her and that she had for some reason buttoned all the way to the top, her long brown hair hanging limply over her shoulders. Klaus' fingers itched to braid it, but she'd never shown much appreciation for his makeover attempts when they were kids.</p><p>"Um... Did you need something?" she asked timidly.</p><p>"Aren't you going to invite me in?" said Klaus, batting his best puppy dog eyes.</p><p>She hesitated, and he was reminded of a particularly choice passage from the chapter about him in her book: <em>'Klaus was often lost in his own world as a child, more fascinated by the dead than the living, except when he wanted attention. The pattern continued into adulthood, with him disappearing for months or years at a time, only resurfacing when he wanted something. We all became wary of Klaus' attempts to show an interest in our lives.'</em></p><p>He'd read and re-read that paragraph, mostly wondering how Vanya had ever gotten the impression that he was in any way <em>fascinated</em> by the ghosts as opposed to bat-shit terrified. But Ben had been particularly upset by it, probably because he was usually the one urging Klaus to reach out to their siblings when the winters got too bad or when he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten.</p><p>Fortunately, though, Vanya was still Vanya: never one to tell someone 'no' to their face, and wasn't that the whole reason he was here? She moved aside, and he strolled into the apartment, looking around with interest.</p><p>It was a bit on the bland side, too much white and beige for his taste and no pops of colour to be found. It wasn't overly large, but it dwarfed Vanya's bedroom from when they were kids, and he got the impression that she had struggled to decorate that much space of her own. Still, it was way nicer than a lot of the places he'd stayed over the years.</p><p>Honestly, the fact that any of them could maintain a stable enough life to have their very own apartment with a bona fide fireplace and a <em>separate</em> kitchen and bedroom was an impressive feat of adulting in and of itself.</p><p>"I like it," he decided, catching Ben's gaze. His brother shrugged his agreement, finding a seat for himself near the window. Vanya was apparently still doing the whole violin thing, her music stand set up in the corner.</p><p>Vanya blinked again, her eyes never leaving him. "...Thanks," she said cautiously, like she wasn't sure if he was being serious or not, which didn't exactly bode well for this conversation.</p><p>Klaus ignored it, though, and threw himself onto the couch, which was a lot comfier than its appearance suggested. He bounced thoughtfully, absently storing the information away for the future.</p><p>Vanya hovered near the doorway, apparently still grappling with his presence. She fidgeted, looking surprisingly out of place given that this was her home, and he could tell she was dying to ask why he was acting like they were best friends when they hadn't spoken to each other in years.</p><p>Instead, she meekly said, "Do you want something to drink?"</p><p>He immediately opened his mouth to ask if she had any vodka, but a glare from Ben shut him up. Ugh. Stupid sobriety.</p><p>"No, thank you," he replied in his most demure voice, because he was perfectly capable of being polite, thank you very much. He waited until Vanya had turned her back to stick his tongue out at Ben, who rolled his eyes.</p><p>"Um, I have some peanut butter cookies, if you want," she offered awkwardly, seemingly determined to play hostess as she made her way to the kitchen. Klaus perked up, grinning.</p><p>She grabbed the box from the cupboard, standing on her tiptoes to reach it just like when they were younger. After pouring a bunch of the cookies onto a plate (<em>fancy!</em>) she set it on the coffee table in front of them. Klaus inhaled appreciatively, his stomach growling. She'd probably picked them up for Five - it was the same brand he'd loved as a kid, and it seemed like the kind of thing Vanya would do - but you snooze, you lose, kiddo.</p><p>"<em>Danke</em>," he said, suddenly starving. He grabbed a handful and started munching, moaning happily at the sugary goodness. Mom's waffles were great, but he knew better than to pass up a free meal.</p><p>He helped himself to another, taking a big bite before he noticed Vanya staring from the chair across from him. There was something like pity in her gaze, and his insides twisted. In his experience, that look was usually followed by disgust and exasperation, and he was not in the mood for a <em>Let's Discuss Klaus' Failings</em> talk from one of his siblings today. He had Ben for that.</p><p>He lowered the cookie and plastered a smile on his face. "Did I ever tell you about the time Diego bet me I couldn't eat a dozen donuts in one sitting, and I ended up ralphing all over the backseat of his car? I haven't been able to look at a jelly-filled pastry the same way since!"</p><p>"That wasn't a bet, Klaus," Ben sighed, leaning back against the windowsill. "You found the donuts Diego bought for his girlfriend and decided to see how many you could fit in your mouth at once."</p><p>Details, details. Besides, the sad look was gone from Vanya's face, replaced with a poorly disguised grimace. Klaus took the opportunity to sneak two more cookies into his pocket. Pity or not, free food was free food.</p><p>"<em>Focus</em>, Klaus," said Ben, the party pooper. Klaus' shoulders drooped. Right. Time to get on with it, he guessed.</p><p>"Anyhoo!" he said, clapping his hands together. "I'm sure you weren't expecting a visit from little old me, but you made your big exit before I had a chance to talk to you yesterday."</p><p>Vanya's shoulders hunched a bit, like she was waiting for him to chastise her about leaving their dearly departed father's funeral early which, ha. If anything, he wished he'd taken the opportunity to make a grander exit, but it was kind of hard to top Five reappearing after seventeen years and then fucking off to get a cup of coffee.</p><p>"...Well I did some digging, and it turns out Dad was an even bigger dick than we thought," he said with false enthusiasm, throwing in some jazz hands for good measure.</p><p>Vanya frowned. "What do you mean?"</p><p>All right. This was it. Go time. Ben had yapped the whole way over about taking it slow, easing her into the truth gently.</p><p>"You have powers!" he blurted out.</p><p>"For fuck's sake, Klaus," Ben groaned, his head in his palm. Whatever, sometimes you had to just rip the band-aid off.</p><p>Vanya shook her head, her forehead creasing. "What?"</p><p>"I know, right?" Klaus exclaimed nervously. Her tone was hard to read, and he really hoped this wasn't a <em>shoot the messenger</em>-type situation. "I was going through Dad's stuff, and I found a bunch of his notes about you, and apparently you have powers, but they were too strong or whatever, so he decided to hide them from you and none of us knew it! I mean, who does that? What an asshole."</p><p>He forced himself to shut up, bracing himself for the inevitable show of surprise. Anger. Confusion. <em>Something</em>. What he hadn't expected was for Vanya to sit there silently, looking impossibly sad and small.</p><p>"...Why are you doing this?" she asked after a long moment, so quiet that he thought he might have misheard her at first.</p><p>Oh crap, was she <em>crying?</em></p><p>"Uhh..."</p><p>She shook her head again, and yep those were actual tears now <em>god damn it how did he screw this up already</em>, a wounded expression on her face.</p><p>"Is this supposed to be funny?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Or is it your way of getting back at me about the book?"</p><p>Klaus' eyes widened. Oh shitshitshit she thought he was taunting her about being powerless? What kind of fucked up brother did she think he was? Even Ben looked taken aback.</p><p>He waved his hands frantically, rushing to explain. "No! No no no it's not a joke, I swear! Here–"</p><p>He fumbled for the journal stashed in the inside pocket of his coat, shoving it at her with both hands. She flinched back, apparently recognizing it as one of Dad's, staring wide-eyed at the cover like it was going to bite her.</p><p>"I was in Dad's office," he rambled, hoping she wasn't about to kick him out, "And I found this in the drawer and it's got all these notes about when we were kids, you remember? He was always writing in it. And I thought it would just be a lot of bullshit about the Academy, but it's got all these pages about you having powers when we were little and how he decided you were too powerful so he separated you from the rest of us and gave you meds to keep you from using them."</p><p>He flipped the book open as he babbled, flicking through the pages and pointing out different sections. Vanya was looking less like she was about to tell him to leave, her eyes reluctantly following his finger across the page. Slowly, she reached out to take the book from him.</p><p>"I know it's a lot to take in," he said, not sure how much she was even listening to him anymore. "And I know I'm not the best person to be telling you all of this, but you deserved to know about it, as fucked up as it all is. I mean... I would want to know if someone messed with my head, and I didn't know if you were still taking your pills or not, so..."</p><p>Vanya's face was blank as she read, her fingers trailing down the pages of writing as though confirming they were real. She didn't give any sign that she'd heard him, and Klaus bit his lip, glancing helplessly at Ben, who shrugged worriedly.</p><p>Her eyes scanned to the bottom of a page - the horrible one detailing the mechanics of the containment bunker dear old Dad had had installed just for her - and she rocked back, her cheeks losing several shades of colour. He barely had time to wince in sympathy, recognizing the expression on her face, before she was running for the bathroom, the journal falling to the ground.</p><p>A minute later, the distinctive sound of retching could be heard across the apartment. Yep. Should have seen that coming.</p><p>Ben looked vaguely grossed out, but he hid it quickly, shooting him a look. "Go after her, you idiot."</p><p>Klaus rolled his eyes. <em>Duh</em>. He had the good grace not to respond, setting off in the direction of the bathroom, stopping only to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, because he could be thoughtful sometimes.</p><p>As expected, Vanya was hunched over the toilet bowl, her hands clenched white-knuckled around the rim. He cringed at the sight of her long hair hanging dangerously low over her shoulders. Vanya clearly didn't have as much experience at puking her guts out in all manner of public bathrooms as he did - keeping your hair out of the way was definitely Rule One.</p><p>He set the glass down and crouched beside her, hesitantly drawing her hair back away from her face. She flinched away at his touch, but the nausea won out, and soon she was too busy hurling to pay him any attention.</p><p>She whimpered pitifully, tears in her eyes as her hands shook.</p><p>"Uh, there, there. Shhh..." he soothed awkwardly, catching Ben's eye with a shrug. Their brother was standing over them both, looking concerned but just as lost as he felt. Neither of them were new to this situation, exactly, but Klaus was always otherwise occupied and Ben could never do much to help besides watch and promise it would be over soon (that is, when he wasn't saying <em>I told you so</em> while shaking his head unsympathetically).</p><p>Ben frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe try rubbing her back?"</p><p>It was as good an idea as any. Klaus obeyed, using his unoccupied hand to clumsily pat her shoulder while murmuring what he hoped were reassuring words.</p><p>Eventually, the toilet flushed, and Vanya fell back to sit against the side of the tub, shaky and pale. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, looking drained.</p><p>Klaus prided himself on his ability to adapt to any scenario, but in his defence, watching his little sister find out her whole life was a lie and then blow chunks was novel even for him. As with any uncomfortable situation, he was sorely tempted to create a distraction, but Ben knew him too well, cutting him off before he could launch into a dramatic retelling of the three-day bender he'd gone on with the rodeo clown in Mexico City.</p><p>"Just give her a minute," he said, settling on the edge of the tub next to Vanya. He had the sad, sappy look on his face that meant he was fantasizing about being able to hug people.</p><p>Vanya had been silent throughout the exchange, staring off into space, but she jerked upright suddenly, her hand going to the pocket of her jeans. She pulled out a small pill bottle, staring at it as though she had no idea how it'd gotten there. She drew in a shuddery breath.</p><p>Before Klaus could ask what she was thinking, she was frantically fumbling the cap off, lurching to dump the contents into the toilet.</p><p>"Hey, hey, hey, wait!" he exclaimed, grabbing her arm.</p><p>Vanya wrenched out of his grip, glaring at him like he'd slapped her.</p><p>"Klaus..." Ben warned, sitting forward anxiously, and yeah, it didn't take a genius to figure out she thought he was on Team Keep Taking the Sketchy Mind Control Pills.</p><p>He held his hands up, keeping his distance. "Don't get me wrong, I fully support the sentiment, but if those drugs are half as strong as Dad's journal says, stopping cold turkey would be a really bad idea."</p><p>She frowned, the suspicion in her eyes dimming slightly as she pulled the bottle back toward her. "What do you mean?"</p><p>"I've seen my fair share of withdrawals from mood stabilizers, and it's not a pretty sight if done wrong," said Klaus, relieved that she was actually listening. "You've been taking those pills for <em>decades</em>. There's no telling what kind of side effects you could get, or what it could do to your powers. Mood swings, paranoia, suicidal thoughts - you name it. I mean, we don't even know what's actually in them," he said, gesturing at the bottle. "Dad always ordered them for you, right?"</p><p>Vanya nodded mutely, blinking, and he could practically <em>see</em> her realizing how weird that was, that their father who never gave a damn about any of them had continued managing her medication well into adulthood.</p><p>"Look, I realise I'm the last person in the world who should be handing out lectures on drug safety, but trust me, it's better if you go off them slowly. Preferably with the help of a doctor who wasn't employed by our <em>dear</em> Papa," he added after a pointed look from Ben.</p><p>Vanya looked less than thrilled by his reasoning, but at least she wasn't trying to dump her entire supply of meds anymore. Reluctantly, she recapped the bottle, setting it on the bathroom floor and sliding it as far away from herself as she could.</p><p>Klaus slumped against the wall opposite to her, feeling empty. Emotions were <em>exhausting</em>.</p><p>They sat in silence just long enough for Klaus to wonder if it would be tacky for him to go search Vanya's cupboards for alcohol - if anything called for a drink, this day certainly did - when she suddenly spoke.</p><p>"...I think I remember it, sort of," she confided, her voice raw and scratchy. "Dad took me to a level of the basement I'd never been in before. There was a long tunnel, and a heavy metal door. There was a bed inside, and the walls had these soft black spikes on them... He told me it was a special place, just for me to play in..."</p><p>Klaus' mouth went dry, his fingers curling in the fabric of his coat. Their dad had told him similar lies the first time he took him to the mausoleum. He hadn't known where they were going at first, but he'd been excited at the promise of having a special place just for him, a place none of his siblings had ever been. It wasn't until he'd seen the gates of the cemetery that he'd started to worry.</p><p>He can still picture the wrought iron rails beneath his hands as he'd tried frantically to force himself out through the bars, some desperate part of him hoping he'd discover a new power that would allow him to escape. Dad had called him foolish, barely glancing up from his notes.</p><p>He doesn't even remember how old he was, that first time. The memories have all blended together with his nightmares over the years, to the point that he's never one hundred percent sure which details were genuine.</p><p>He shook the dark thoughts away. Really not a great time for another panic attack.</p><p>Vanya had fallen silent again, her chin quivering as she stared down at the floor.</p><p>"Here," Klaus offered, holding the forgotten glass of water out to her.</p><p>She looked up sharply at his voice, staring at the glass for a moment like she wasn't sure what it was. But her lips tugged up into a weak semblance of a smile as she muttered a small <em>thanks</em>, so he took it as a win.</p><p>She rinsed her mouth out before downing the rest of the water, a haunted look settling on her features.</p><p>"Pogo knew," she stated firmly, like she was daring him to question her. "So did Mom. Dad had them monitor my medication and report back to him about whether I was taking my pills."</p><p>The misery in her eyes was painful to see, and Klaus curled his fingers to keep from trying to hug her.</p><p>He hadn't really stopped to think about Mom's role in all of this, but if Pogo was in on it, it made sense that she was, too. Mom was easy to control and was pretty much designed to not ask questions. Taking advantage of that was definitely something Dad would do. Diego had tried more than once to convince them that she secretly hated the bastard's guts, but even if that was true, her programming would still have kept her from disobeying an order.</p><p>Not that that made it any easier to find out that the two parental figures you'd trusted most had betrayed you.</p><p>"Dad probably didn't give her a choice," he offered weakly, knowing how little it mattered. He could still remember Mom's vacant smile as Dad physically dragged him out the door to the cemetery, his pleas for help falling on deaf ears as she waved goodbye and told him to mind his father.</p><p>The fact that she was just acting like she was programmed to do had never made him feel any less alone.</p><p>If Vanya's face was any indication, she felt the same.</p><p>"There are so many things that make sense now," she said, hunching her shoulders. "So many little moments that I never understood. Dad used to get so angry if I missed a dose for any reason. I got punished if I forgot, but it never even occurred to me..."</p><p>Klaus hugged his torso, fending off a wave of nausea. The conversation was shifting dangerously close to territory he had no desire to revisit, but it felt wrong to stay quiet when Vanya looked so pitiful.</p><p>"Dad was an <em>asshole</em>," he agreed distractedly, thinking longingly of the joint in his pocket.</p><p>Surely, Ben couldn't begrudge him a teensy bit of pot to take the edge off? It was hardly even a drug, practically legal. Barely a step above alcohol. A half-step, at most, but if it quieted some of the thoughts racing through his mind, well, then that was just as much for Vanya's benefit as his. How could he be expected to help his dear baby sister through this difficult time when his stupid brain was busy feeding him a buttload of traumatic memories?</p><p>A knowing glare from Ben stopped that train of thought in its tracks.</p><p>Klaus sighed. Vanya probably wouldn't appreciate him lighting up in her apartment, anyways. People got weird about that sort of thing.</p><p>Okay. <em>Be a good brother. Be a good brother. Come on, Klaus, you can definitely do this.</em></p><p>"How could he do this to me?" Vanya murmured, the comment clearly not meant for him. "I always knew I was his least favourite, but..."</p><p>Klaus frowned. It wasn't exactly <em>untrue</em> - Vanya's book hadn't minced words about the fact that their dad couldn't stand her - but Klaus had always been convinced he held the title for Most Despised Child in the Hargreeves clan. Then again, that ranking sort of implied that Dad had <em>liked</em> any of them, and he was pretty certain that wasn't the case.</p><p>It was a scale of Hated to <em>Most</em> Hated, really. How the hell had anyone let that man adopt children?</p><p>There was a flicker in the corner of his eye, giving the vague impression of a woman. Klaus steadfastly ignored it. Nope. He was definitely not dealing with any non-Ben ghosties while Vanya was busy having a breakdown. He was fairly sure that was in the Good Brother Handbook somewhere: Don't freak out over invisible dead people when your sister has just found out she was gaslit by every adult in her life.</p><p>Christ on a bicycle, he was <em>way</em> too sober for all of this.</p><p>His eyes caught on the bottle of pills sitting near his feet, the label facing invitingly in his direction. It looked so official, so normal compared to the little baggies of mismatched tablets his world so often revolved around.</p><p>The label said <em>Take two tablets daily</em>, but he'd seen Vanya pop them like candy over the years, whenever she was anxious or upset or worried. None of them had ever so much as batted an eye at it. It was her medicine, after all. She needed it.</p><p>It was kind of funny how he and Vanya had both become addicts, in their own way. Maybe not laugh-out-loud funny, but there was definitely some irony there.</p><p>And speaking of being the Most Hated Child, it hadn't escaped his notice that Dad had had the answer to blocking their powers this whole time and had hidden it from him. The old man had always looked down on Klaus for suppressing his powers, calling him weak, a disappointment. Like not wanting to be yelled at by bloody corpses with half their faces missing was a moral failing and not, you know, a perfectly reasonable goal in life.</p><p>Meanwhile, the colossal dickbag had handed Vanya a fucking limitless prescription, all legit and everything. No begging on street corners or picking pockets or kneeling in dirty alleyways for her, no siree. All because the giant douche nozzle hadn't wanted to deal with her.</p><p>Not that any of that had been Vanya's choice, of course. But the niggling thought wouldn't go away.</p><p>No more constant screaming. No more nightmares. No more gore and guts and blood and burnt skin and missing limbs and never being sure who was alive in a crowd and who wasn't.</p><p>Okay, true, Vanya hadn't exactly been a barrel of laughs on the meds, but if the trade-off was peace and quiet for the first time in his life? Klaus loved being high as much as the next addict, but it had always been a means to an end, a necessary way of surviving. If he could achieve that end another way, a legitimate way, one that wouldn't require him to spend every day frantically searching for his next fix, living in fear of what would happen if he took too long...</p><p>Well, who could blame him, really? No one had ever looked down on Vanya for taking medication.</p><p>The bottle sat there, tempting him, and his fingers itched to grab it and shove a pill or two in his mouth. He could ask Vanya to keep renewing her prescription. She owed him, sort of, right? Surely, she'd do him this one teensy little favour if he promised it meant no more drugs. And no one else would even have to know. She could be free of the pills, and he could be free of his powers. It was a win-win for everyone!</p><p>"Don't even think about it, Klaus," Ben warned, because of course he'd figured out what he was thinking, the nosy little shit.</p><p>Klaus shot him a dirty look. They both knew he wouldn't say anything to Ben in front of Vanya - he'd learned that lesson years ago - and the asshole loved using that fact to his advantage.</p><p>Ben didn't look smug this time, though. If anything, he looked sad, his hands clasped in his lap as he stared down at Klaus from his perch on the edge of the bathtub.</p><p>"It's not worth it," he said softly. "I know it's tempting, but you don't really want to take something Dad made, do you? You saw what it did to Vanya, you know it's not just a power suppressant. He wanted to make her easier to control. Stop her from standing up for herself. Don't let Dad do that to you, too."</p><p>Klaus scowled, the fight draining out of him. He hated it when Ben was right, and his dearly departed brother always knew exactly which buttons to push. He'd spent his whole life rebelling against Reginald Hargreeves' attempts to control him. He wasn't about to let the crusty old bag of dicks win now.</p><p>...There was no guarantee her meds would even work on his powers, anyway, he reminded himself pessimistically.</p><p>He sighed, covertly nodding his reluctant agreement. Ben smiled, and it was a little smug now, but Klaus was willing to let it slide just this once.</p><p>"Does it say anything about what I was like?" Vanya asked, interrupting their silent conversation. She was staring at the bottle too, now, still curled up against the side of the bathtub like she expected the pills to come flying at her from across the room.</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>"The journal," she clarified apprehensively, avoiding his gaze. "Does it say what I was like before..."</p><p>Oh. Klaus knitted his brow. He'd been wracking his brain since yesterday for any hints of what life had been like for all of them pre-rumour, but his memories of that time were fuzzy and disjointed, something their dad had no doubt encouraged. The journal wasn't especially helpful on that front, either.</p><p>"It's kind of vague," he replied thoughtfully. "Dad's notes mostly talk about your powers, like what triggered them and how he tested them and stuff, and they talk about the meds suppressing your moods and keeping you sedated, but he doesn't really say much about your personality before that, other than that you were <em>'more willful'</em>, which is probably code for <em>'didn't take as much of Dad's shit as he wanted you to'</em>–"</p><p>Ben winced, signalling him to shut up as Vanya's face crumpled, tears spilling down her cheeks. <em>Aw crap</em>, this is <em>exactly</em> why he was the wrong person for this job.</p><p>"Hey, no no," he fussed, flapping his hands helplessly in her direction. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't cry!"</p><p>"I don't remember," she hiccupped through her tears, as though he hadn't spoken. "I can't remember ever not feeling this way... What if I was a completely different person? I don't even know if I was <em>happier</em> or–"</p><p>She broke off with a sob, and Klaus couldn't stand it anymore. He was definitely risking getting kicked out, here, but it was physically paining him to see someone so upset and not do anything. He scooted across the floor and put a hand on her shoulder, ready to pull back if she tensed, but Vanya surprised him, curling into his side and clutching his coat in a death-grip as she cried.</p><p>He wrapped his arms around her, feeling a bit more confident even as her tears began to soak through his thin crop top. He glanced up at Ben for input, but that dopey, sentimental look was back on his face, like he was picturing them both on the cover of a Hallmark card, the big softie.</p><p>Eventually, Vanya's tears tapered off, and they both stiffened as things grew awkward. It occurred to Klaus suddenly that this was the first time he could ever remember hugging Vanya. He hadn't even hugged her when she'd moved out of the mansion, although in his defence, he'd been extremely high at the time and it had taken him a full day to even notice her stuff was missing.</p><p>Reason Number 643 why their family was every therapist's wet dream.</p><p>Vanya pulled away, her shoulders curling inward as she wiped the tears off of her face.</p><p>"Um. I'm feeling a bit better now," she offered haltingly, refusing to meet his eye.</p><p>"Right," Klaus said cheerily, forcing a smile on his face, because he was a goddamn <em>expert</em> at pretending things were fine when they weren't. "Well, as much as I love what you've done with the decor in here, what do you say we go sit in a room you <em>didn't</em> just do a technicolour yawn in?"</p><p>"Jesus," Ben groaned, looking up at the ceiling for patience. "Does the word 'tact' mean <em>anything</em> to you?"</p><p>Vanya was moving to stand up, though, so he couldn't have offended her too badly. Klaus shot Ben a triumphant look, following her back out into the front room. This brother stuff wasn't so hard.</p><p>He regretted his cockiness a moment later when he found himself standing in the middle of Vanya's living room with no earthly idea what to do next.</p><p>Vanya herself had curled into a ball on the sofa, her eyes red as she stared out at nothing. Ben settled in the chair across from her, watching her with a sad expression.</p><p>He should bring her something comforting, right? Like a fluffy blanket? That was a thing people did. A quick scan of the apartment turned up nothing useful, though.</p><p>Klaus spun around, heading back into the kitchen. Maybe he should he get her ice cream or something? They said it was good for crying over breakups, not that Klaus would know. He'd never really cared enough about anyone he'd dated to be sad about breaking up with them. Then again, he'd never really needed an excuse to eat ice cream, either.</p><p>The freezer, much like the apartment, was depressingly empty, leaving Klaus at a loss.</p><p>Vanya was watching him now as he scurried around the kitchen, looking for something that would help. He finally settled on chamomile tea because he could remember Mom making it for Vanya when she got tonsillitis when they were six. This wasn't exactly the same situation, but she'd seemed to like it well enough when they were kids.</p><p>He poured the hot water into the mug, giving it a stir. "I can't remember if you like to leave the tea bag in or not," he said, shooting Vanya a half-smile over his shoulder.</p><p>"...In is fine," she replied, her forehead creasing as he made his way over to her, setting the mug on the coffee table. He pushed the abandoned plate of peanut butter cookies closer to her before tucking himself onto the opposite end of the couch.</p><p>Vanya blinked slowly, staring at the mug with confusion.</p><p>"...Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked softly.</p><p>Wow. Klaus hid a wince - nothing like hearing what a shitty sibling you were point-blank, no matter how true it was.</p><p>He crossed his legs underneath himself, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't tick her off. "You're my sister," he settled on eventually, the response sounding weak even to him.</p><p>Vanya's frown deepened. "I've always been your sister, but I think this is the most time we've ever spent together," she said, her gaze drifting to the journal that was still lying on the rug.</p><p>"...Is it because you know I have powers now?" she said bitterly, her fists clenching in her lap. "That I'm not just ordinary after all?"</p><p>"No!" he said, his eyes widening. Vanya's expression shifted into disbelief, and he sat up straighter, turning to face her head-on.</p><p>"If anything, it's because I'm sorry," he admitted. "I thought you were spared most of the traumatic stuff. That you were the only one who managed to avoid being part of Dad's experiments and his training and all of that crazy bullshit, but then it turns out this whole time..." He looked down, images from his nightmare resurfacing with a vengeance, his chest tightening with the sensation of being trapped, unable to breathe. "I knew Dad treated all of us like shit, but I thought I was th–"</p><p>Klaus stopped, remembering himself a second too late. He hugged his torso with shaking hands, feeling uncomfortably exposed.</p><p>Vanya tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. "What? What were you going to say?"</p><p>He waved it off. "Nothing, just running my mouth like always," he said, flashing a tight smile.</p><p>"You should tell her," Ben urged, leaning forward. "It might help you both, to know that you're not alone."</p><p>Hah. Right. Enough well-meaning counsellors and rehab specialists had tried the same lines on him over the years, but he knew better than to expect anyone to believe him. The one time he'd started to tell Diego the truth about the mausoleum, he'd shot him a weird look before replying that they all hated their training sessions. He could still remember Five scowling at him whenever he'd complained about having to do extra practice with Dad, his brother insisting that Klaus was lucky to have the chance to push his powers to the next level. And every court-ordered therapist he'd ever tried to explain his childhood to had lectured him about making up stories to avoid dealing with the real problems in his life.</p><p>He couldn't fault any of them, really. It came with the territory. It didn't help that Vanya's book had pretty much solidified his reputation as a compulsive liar and attention whore, even if she hadn't used those exact words.</p><p>Vanya's jaw twitched, her eyes darkening with suspicion. Great. She probably thought he was hiding more secrets about her, not that he could really blame her.</p><p>"Klaus," she stated, her voice uncharacteristically stern. Apparently, discovering your whole childhood was a lie did wonders for one's self-confidence.</p><p>He avoided her gaze, instead staring covertly at the blurry outline of the woman who was now starting to solidify in front of the fireplace. He watched her hobble toward them, one of her ankles dragging on the floor beneath her heavy floor-length skirt.</p><p>Her long-sleeve blouse was neatly pressed but outdated, the high collar doing nothing to disguise the unnatural bend of her neck.</p><p>Klaus masked a grimace, swallowing down the twinge of familiarity he felt. Okay, uncomfortable conversation or not, any momentary distraction the ghost could provide was definitely not worth the risk of attracting her attention.</p><p>He sighed, turning his focus to the journal on the floor. At least if Vanya accused him of lying, he could leave and get started on that bender he had planned. Ben wouldn't hold it against him.</p><p>"...I thought I was the only one that Dad locked up," he admitted reluctantly, picking at a loose thread on his jacket. "None of the others talked about their individual training much, but Dad always made it really clear that I needed a <em>special</em> approach with mine. He was convinced that I was wasting my potential, that I needed more discipline and focus than the others. It's why I had to have extra sessions, why I needed more severe punishments for disobeying. So, I always just assumed I was the only one he'd done it to, that it was his sick way of keeping me in line or getting back at me for the drugs and stuff."</p><p>Vanya was frozen across from him, her expression unreadable.</p><p>"...What did he do?" she whispered. She wet her lips absently. "What– Was it the same place..."</p><p>Klaus shook his head, tugging on the loose thread in earnest now. "He used to take me to the cemetery down the road and lock me in the mausoleum for hours. The first time, he said it was because my powers weren't progressing fast enough. I guess he wanted to speed things up by trapping me in the dark with a bunch of screaming ghosts, but after that he said it would help me get over my 'fear of the dead.'" He snorted humourlessly, getting lost in the memories. "Sometimes he'd leave me there overnight and wouldn't let me out until I swore up and down that I wasn't scared anymore. Not that he ever believed me for long."</p><p>Vanya's breath hitched.</p><p>"I never knew," she said, her eyes watering. "I remember you going away to train, and sometimes you wouldn't be there for breakfast in the morning, but I thought he had you doing solo missions or something." She shook her head. "Why did you summon the ghosts if you were scared of them? Couldn't you have just lied to Dad about them being there?"</p><p>Klaus huffed a bitter laugh. "I wish."</p><p>He'd tried explaining his powers to his siblings more than once when they were kids, but for whatever reason, they'd all seemed to walk away with the impression that he could call and dismiss the ghosts at will. It got to the point that whenever he'd complained about his powers or mentioned a particular ghost that was bothering him, they'd looked at him like it was his fault for summoning them in the first place. Maybe it was because most of his siblings had to <em>choose</em> to use their powers to activate them, whereas Klaus was stuck on ghost central 24/7, whether he liked it or not.</p><p>He glanced at Ben, who nodded encouragingly. Well, one massive secret out of the bag. Might as well go for broke.</p><p>"I hardly ever summon the ghosts," he said. "They're just there. I see them everywhere, and they're usually not too thrilled about the whole being dead thing, so they like to take their complaints up with me. They also seem to be under the impression that I can help them, somehow, or that it's my life's ambition to run endless errands for them. It's like having my very own screaming undead posse following me around all day and night, except that they're gory and limbless and stuff. Not exactly great company for an eight-year-old, so I have no idea why Dad thought locking me in with them would do anything except scare the bejeezus out of me."</p><p>He debated telling Vanya about the ghost in her apartment, but she was already looking a bit disturbed by what he was saying. She bit her lip, pulling on the strands of hair hanging over her shoulder. "So, you can't get rid of them?"</p><p>"Not when I'm sober," he replied glibly, shrugging.</p><p>Vanya's mouth fell open in an 'o', understanding slowly seeping onto her face. She seemed vaguely horrified by the information, and something inside Klaus settled, despite the uncomfortable subject matter. She hadn't accused him of exaggerating about his childhood or making things up to get attention. It felt... well, not <em>good</em>, exactly, to say it all out loud, but not bad, either.</p><p>Who knew all those daytime talk show hosts had actually been on to something?</p><p>"I'm sorry you went through all of that," she said, surprising him with the force of her sincerity. "I never realised what your powers were like for you."</p><p>Klaus shook his head, not comfortable with the amount of sympathy in her voice. "Well, I guess we have more in common than we thought. If I'd known back then what he did to you..."</p><p>He trailed off, his stomach churning. He'd never stood up to their dad as a kid. Sure, he'd hated the mausoleum and going on missions and being forced to summon murder victims so he could detail their gruesome deaths for their father's notes, but he'd still put up with it all, right up until he'd finally gotten the courage to leave. Before that day, the closest he'd come to a real rebellion had been intoxicating himself to the point where Dad had finally declared him completely useless.</p><p>If he'd known about Vanya, he wanted to believe he'd have been brave enough to do something about it but, as Dad had always been quick to remind him, he was a coward at heart.</p><p>"I was always jealous of you when we were kids," said Vanya, interrupting his thoughts. "All of you. I knew Dad was tough, but he talked about you guys like you were special, and I was so envious every time you got to go out on a mission and I had to watch from the crowd or stay home by myself."</p><p>She paused, twisting her hair around her fingers. "I- I knew that you hated your powers, but I thought you were just being selfish, that you didn't appreciate what you had," she whispered, as though admitting a shameful secret. "Same with the drugs and the drinking. I thought you were doing it for attention. I kept telling myself that if I had powers, I wouldn't take them for granted like that..."</p><p>She ducked her head, strands of hair sliding down to cover her eyes like when they were kids. Klaus grimaced.</p><p>"I was jealous of <em>you</em>," he replied honestly, thinking about her book. He'd never been anywhere near as upset about it as Diego, but it'd been hard not to be a little annoyed at her for complaining about being ignored by Dad. After all, Dad had treated them all like garbage in one way or another. He'd figured being ignored was a lot better than being actively tortured. All in all, not the worst way to survive the Hargreeves house.</p><p>Or so he'd assumed.</p><p>"I knew that Dad treated you like you were invisible, not that the rest of us were much better. But I wanted so badly to be normal, so Dad would leave me alone. I thought you were lucky, not having to deal with training, or going on missions, or having any shitty powers to manage... Guess we were both wrong."</p><p>Vanya snorted softly, staring down at her hands in her lap. "Guess so."</p><p>She sniffed, wiping a hand across her face. "God, this is all such a mess," she said, huffing out a humourless chuckle. "It's a good thing I don't have any lessons today - I don't think I could manage it."</p><p>"Sorry about the ambush," Klaus said, hugging his knees to his chest. "I probably could have done a better job of springing it all on you."</p><p>She shook her head, meeting his eyes for the first time in a while. "I'm really glad you told me. I-It's a <em>lot</em>, but I'd rather... I'm glad I know now."</p><p>Cautiously, she bent over to retrieve the journal, and Klaus took the opportunity to steal a glance at Ben, who'd been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole exchange.</p><p>Ben gave him a small smile. "You're doing fine," he assured him. "...I told you you'd feel better if you told someone the truth," he added after a pause, because of course he did. Klaus was fairly certain Ben hadn't been this much of a know-it-all when he was alive.</p><p>He made a face at him before Vanya sat up, her fingers slowly paging through the book again.</p><p>"...Did Allison ever say anything?" she asked quietly, sitting way too still to be casual.</p><p>Klaus tensed, his eyes darting to Ben again. He'd really been hoping to avoid this topic, not wanting to put words in Allison's mouth or destroy what was already a pretty tense relationship between Vanya and the rest of them. But apparently, he and Vanya were determined to catch up on three decades' worth of conversations in one day.</p><p>Ben's forehead creased with worry.</p><p>"I... She never said anything to me about it," he answered carefully. He and Ben had already wracked their brains for any little comments or hints they'd missed growing up, but they'd both come up empty. "...Honestly, I'm not sure if she would remember. We were all pretty young at the time - I barely even remember you going away."</p><p>Vanya's chin quivered, and he was pretty sure she was holding back another round of tears. Okay, telling her that her sister might not have any memory of fucking up her life probably wasn't the way to go. Klaus scooted closer to her on the couch, anxious to smooth things over.</p><p>"Look, I don't know if she remembers or not, but she probably didn't know what she was doing," he told her truthfully, secure at least in his knowledge of their dad's tactics. A full day to consider it and to rethink everything he'd ever known about Allison had left him feeling pretty confident in his conclusions.</p><p>"Dad made us do weird stuff all the time without telling us what it was for. And he was <em>really</em> good at making us go along with it. If his plan was to keep us all from knowing about your powers, he probably didn't tell her why she was doing it. Either way, I'm pretty sure Dad is the real villain, here, for getting a four-year-old to mind-wipe her sibling."</p><p>That, at least, seemed to give Vanya some small bit of comfort, or at least she decided she was done talking about it, her attention turning back to the journal. Klaus felt a bizarre flash of gratitude that their dad had been such a predictably enigmatic prick, but it vanished quickly.</p><p>Across the couch, Vanya shivered. "<em>'For the fate of the world,'</em>" she read softly, staring down intently at a new page.</p><p>"What?" asked Klaus.</p><p>"Something Five said," she replied, her face shadowed with dread. "He told me he travelled to the future and saw the aftermath of the apocalypse. He's convinced the world is going to end in a week, and he came back to stop it. I thought he was just traumatised from the time travel, but what if this is what Dad meant? What if my powers are too dangerous?"</p><p>"Dad was full of shit," Ben insisted angrily, apparently forgetting Vanya couldn't hear him. "He was just worried he wouldn't be able to push you around."</p><p>Klaus gestured at him in agreement, caught up in the moment. "Yeah, I'm calling bullshit on that one. I refuse to believe Dad knew enough about what you could do after less than two weeks of training to decide you were a danger to all of humanity."</p><p>"You don't know that," she replied, her voice wavering. "This says I- I <em>killed</em> people. Nannies. Just because I didn't want to listen to them. I don't even remember that. What if there's something really bad inside of me? What if I'm... <em>wrong</em>, somehow, and Dad knew it?"</p><p>Klaus shook his head. He remembered the small notation in the corner of one of the journal pages listing the former nannies' names and their dates and causes of death like they were sports scores or something. They'd barely been worth a mention in Reginald Hargreeves' messed-up view of the world, just collateral damage to his all-important work. Given the consequence-free way the Umbrella Academy had been raised to deal with killing people, he very much doubted their dear papa had bothered to spend any time teaching a superpowered toddler about the morality of taking a life.</p><p>He definitely wouldn't be telling Vanya about the ghost in her apartment, now, though he was pretty sure he'd figured out why she was so familiar to him.</p><p>"I'm not trusting Dad's judgement on <em>anything</em>," he insisted firmly. "I'm living proof that he was shit at dealing with our powers. And you were just a <em>little kid</em>. What kind of toddler immediately knows how to handle having superpowers? It's ridiculous! But he just completely gives up on you before you've even got your grown-up teeth? I mean, remember what a little terror Diego was with the knife-throwing? It's a miracle we all reached adulthood with both eyes intact. Not to mention how many doors Pogo had to put back on their hinges because of Luther's crazy gorilla-grip. If they're not too dangerous to have powers, there's no way you are. If anything, Dad made it all worse! He was training us to be soldiers, what did he expect us to do with our powers?"</p><p>There was a tinge of desperation in Vanya's expression as she listened, her fingers anxiously toying with the corners of the journal.</p><p>"...You really think so?" she asked hesitantly.</p><p>"Absolutely!" Klaus replied, Ben nodding his agreement. "I wouldn't trust that fucktrumpet to raise a potted fern, let alone accurately predict the end of the world and how to stop it. He got ticked because you broke his stupid monocle, and he overreacted in the most Hargreeves-y way possible."</p><p>She looked down at her lap, absently curling and uncurling the edge of one of the pages.</p><p>"So, you're not scared of me?" she murmured with forced nonchalance, avoiding his gaze.</p><p>Klaus' shoulders fell. "Are you kidding?" he said, scooting even closer to her on the couch until their knees were almost touching. "Vanya, you're the nicest person I know. Probably nicer than you have any right to be, given where we were raised. There's no way you'd ever hurt anyone on purpose, let alone blow up the world or whatever."</p><p>Her eyes darted up to meet his briefly. "...That's not what the others think. My book... They all hate me..."</p><p>He winced, catching Ben's gaze. "Yeah, okay, maybe it wasn't the <em>best</em> way to get everyone's attention, but I totally get why you did it. And the others... Well, yeah, they're pissed about it. Or at least Diego still is, I don't know about, like, Allison and Luther. But I guarantee they don't <em>hate</em> you. Diego's a big softie underneath, you know that, he just likes to act like an asshole so people think he's tough. And I'm pretty sure you're still Five's favourite sibling."</p><p>Vanya didn't look all that convinced, the pages of the journal quickly becoming dog-eared.</p><p>"...I don't want to tell them yet," she whispered.</p><p>Klaus frowned. "About the journal?"</p><p>"About any of it," she replied, looking anxious. "Not until I know more about what I can do. I mean, maybe Five was right about the end of the world and maybe he wasn't, but I don't want the others to look at me like..." she swallowed, her shoulders hunching. "I don't want to say anything until I <em>know</em> I'm not dangerous."</p><p>He was all but positive the chances of Vanya wiping out the earth were slim to none, but after yesterday's shining example of the dysfunctional Hargreeves family at work, he couldn't really fault her logic. It was probably best to wait for Vanya to come to grips with everything before overwhelming her with what was sure to be another epic family meltdown.</p><p>"You're probably right," he said, leaning back on his hands. "I think Five's little reappearing act maxed out our crazy quota for one week. And hey, it gives you time to try out your swanky new powers! I bet you'll get the hang of it a lot faster without Dad's Machiavellian training tactics getting in the way. You can dazzle everyone when you tell them," he finished, waving both hands in a showy manner.</p><p>Ben snorted.</p><p>But rather than the smile he'd been going for, Vanya looked even more anxious at his words. She seemed to wrestle with something for a long moment, before looking up at him with big, tear-filled eyes.</p><p>"...Will you help me?"</p><p>Klaus froze.</p><p>"Huh?" He blinked, pretty sure he'd misunderstood her. He couldn't remember the last time any of his living siblings had asked him for help with anything. He was the family fuckup with good reason - he couldn't be trusted with anything important, and they all knew it.</p><p>Her face fell slightly, her fingers twisting in her lap. He could see her steeling her resolve, though. "I- I've never done this before. I don't even know where to <em>start</em>. I just... I don't want to do it alone..."</p><p>Her voice tapered off as she spoke, to the point where he had to lean forward to hear the last bit.</p><p>He blinked again, his mind reeling. Why would she want <em>his</em> help? He was probably the worst person to ask, given that he was the only one who'd never managed to control his own powers. A fact that Dad had often reminded him of. Literally <em>any</em> other sibling would be of more use to Vanya than he would be.</p><p>He opened his mouth to say as much, before remembering that they'd just finished agreeing not to tell any of the others. Which just left Klaus.</p><p>The last resort, as always.</p><p>But Vanya was staring up at him, all desperate and vulnerable and scared-looking, like she actually thought he held the answers she needed. Worse, she was looking at him like she was terrified he'd say no. That he'd reject her, leave her on her own again after everything she'd been through and <em>fuck</em>.</p><p>He <em>wanted</em> to help her. He <em>wanted</em> to promise her that she wasn't alone, give her someone she could actually rely on.</p><p>He turned to Ben, hoping for guidance, but his face was frustratingly unreadable.</p><p>"She needs help," he agreed, sounding more serious than Klaus had ever heard him. "But it's your decision, not mine."</p><p>Klaus resisted the urge to glare at him. Twelve-odd years of being the otherworldly Jiminy Cricket to Klaus' Pinocchio, and <em>now</em> he decided to keep his opinions to himself?</p><p>Fortunately, old habits died hard, as Ben couldn't seem to resist adding more.</p><p>"If you do this, you can't do it halfway," he warned. "If you promise to be there for her, you <em>have</em> to give her one hundred percent. You can't bail on her when things get tough. She needs you to be strong for her."</p><p>And there was the crux of the problem. Klaus had never been good at being strong. In fact, 'weak-willed' was probably one of the first words dear old Dad would have used to describe him, followed by 'cowardly' and 'lazy.'</p><p>But he thought suddenly about Mom waving goodbye on his way to the graveyard, and Pogo lecturing him impassively about the evils of stealing from the liquor cabinet at the ripe old age of twelve, and Dad soundproofing his room so the others wouldn't be disturbed by his screaming, and–</p><p>And he knew he would have wanted someone to be there for him.</p><p>Vanya deserved at least that much.</p><p>The ghost nanny was hovering closer now, watching them both with a mournful expression. He guessed he'd better get used to seeing more of it. So much for his week-long bender.</p><p>Klaus turned his attention back to Vanya, who was still looking up at him with her big, hazel eyes full of hope and desperation.</p><p>"I will," he said, his gaze darting briefly to Ben. "I promise."</p><p>Vanya's answering grin was wider than any he'd ever seen on her. He had barely a moment to appreciate it before he was rocked back by the impact of her hugging him, her arms wound tightly around his chest.</p><p>He hugged her back, feeling equal parts happy and terrified.</p><p>Maybe he could pull off this brother stuff after all.</p><p>The end.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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